


Hanging On by the Last Threads of Our Hope

by IllyanaA



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Relationships, Post-Order 66, Post-Star Wars Rebels: The Siege of Lothal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:41:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24269131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IllyanaA/pseuds/IllyanaA
Summary: Ahsoka and Rex have lived through too much. They stay together until they can't, but the Force has a way of bringing them back together. It's a fact for which both of them are immeasurably grateful.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 10
Kudos: 97





	Hanging On by the Last Threads of Our Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I'm supposed to be working on installments in the When Darkness Seems to Hide This Place 'verse, but this is my attempt to cope with the numerous feelings left by that finale weeks ago. 
> 
> Unbeta'd. All mistakes mine.

_16:5:22 GRS; 19 Years Before the Battle of Yavin; 1 st Year of the Empire_

They hadn’t stayed in place for very long. Both knew there would be search patrols; squadrons sent to make sure every soldier had followed orders. Leaving her sabers wouldn’t be enough to convince anyone for long, especially if they decided to search the ship or dig up the graves. That last thought made bile rise up in her throat, and she begged the Force to grant these men—her men—one final mercy of the rest they deserved. Free, and “marching on further ahead.”

Behind her, Rex had set about prepping the ship as soon as they set the final helmet on its stake. She was glad to let him have the task. Burying his brothers had been…she didn’t have words. His grief and pain and anger had blended with hers in the Force, perhaps a legacy of her previous meld of their minds or perhaps just a cruel reminder of the fact that they were utterly and completely alone. Two hearts left beating from a ship that once housed thousands of men. Each time they pulled the helmet from another, and Rex added his name to his ever-lengthening remembrance, the wave came anew. She wouldn’t let him pull away from her, each time he collapsed down next to the body of one of the older ones, those he had been with longer. She held him close, and he her, in turn, until their job was done.

There were no words to explain this feeling, and so aside from the almost constant whispering of the Mando’a litany of remembrance, neither one had spoken. The silence was deafening.

He had given her a final few moments to stare at the helmets of the men she had fought beside from the beginning, those who had stood by her eagerly at the end knowing her more through the stories of their older brothers, those who had painted their buckets to _honour_ her. The weight of it was something she would bear for a long time.

A hand on her shoulder told her it was time to go. For the final time, Rex stepped forward and pressed his forehead to Jesse’s helmet. One long, slow breath later, and they were climbing into the ship to leave the wreckage behind. She sat in the pilot’s chair now, taking them up out of the atmosphere and away from fallen friends. If she weren’t so empty, so spent, she would have shed tears as they left.

They flew as far as they could on the fuel they had, but not far enough for her liking. The first time she heard Rex speak in Basic since the end of it all was when he directed her towards a seedier spaceport, the kind where no one was likely to ask questions. Step one would be abandoning the Y-wing a considerable distance from the port itself, before trying to commandeer—or more likely, steal—another ship.

As soon as the landing gear hit the ground, she was out of the pilot’s chair. Her voice sounded strange to her ears, so young yet so ragged as she directed Rex to stay put until she could sneak in, find him some plain clothes, and scout out a place to lay low. He hadn’t been thrilled at the idea of taking his armour off, but didn’t argue. It wasn’t until they were settled into one of the rundown hotels on the outskirts, “do not disturb” sign lit above the door, that she leaned against the wall and let some of the tension out of her shoulders. She looked over to where her companion was pulling up the holonet and closed her eyes as she listened to the news.

Coverage of Palpatine’s speech was the first thing to come up, followed by news that the war was over. Seeing his face stoked a severe rage within her, quickly overtaken by the horror that Maul had been mostly right about him. About his plan. She could have stopped this. She could have saved them, her men, her Master, her friends and family. She shuddered to think of the members of her Order—former or not—that lay dead across the galaxy, not granted the luxury of a funeral. Had the chips been deactivated when it was finished? Did they drop to their knees in horror? She thought of whatever horrible death Sidious must’ve left Anakin to die. Was he alone in the end? A whisper of _you could have saved him_ gripped at her heart, dragging her backdown into the grief she thought she had run dry of.

An enraged scream brought her back to the present moment, here in the hotel room. With Rex. On the run. She was dimly aware of the tears on her cheeks even as she snapped her gaze to the holonet where clip after clip of the putting down of the “Jedi Rebellion” flashed before her eyes. She looked up at Rex, fists clenched at his sides, body heaving and shaking with pent up fury. Surging to her feet, she cut it off as “Marshall Commander CC-2224” appeared in view.

“It’s all lies. All of it!” He bit out.

“I know.”

“How can they—how could anyone justify—”

“Palpatine—the war—they’ve been shifting public opinion since before this began. Rex—” she sighed, knowing she needed to phrase this carefully. “He’s been playing this since before I was born. This…it’s bigger than any of us.”

That might have been the wrong thing to say, as a sick, powerless smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That’s what Fives said to me as he died in my arms.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he barelled onward. “Do you understand, sir, what it’s like to know you were bred to be a murderer? That the only reason I exist was to slaughter you. Trillions of lifeforms go through life wondering what their purpose is. I know mine, and I hate myself for it.”

She could say nothing, so he continued. “We weren’t made to be soldiers, Ahsoka. We were created to be executioners.”

“I’m sorry.” And for perhaps the thousandth time since that ship and both their lives came crashing down, she stepped forward and held him.

With his armour off, she felt the hitch in his breath, the beat of his heart against her chest, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of his grief. She wondered how long this would linger for both of them, how long it would take until they could feel whole again. There were no platitudes, no mantras that told her how to press on when everything you knew was gone. And though she knew neither of could say it out loud now, they both knew they wouldn’t be able to stay together forever. Her biometrics were identifiable, and his face was too recognizable to the Empire.

He tightened his grip for just a moment before his hands fell away.

“Sorry.”

“It’s not a weakness, Rex.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath, before turning to open the map they’d been provided. They were going to need food, and both had blaster burns that needed further tending. Better to save the supplies they took for the road. Credits were going to be an issue, since what little she had before all this started was about dried up.

“I’m going to see about food and bacta,” she said, picking up her cloak from where she had tossed it on the floor.

“With what credits?”

She shrugged. “I’ll figure that out on the way. Comm. me if anything happens.”

“Will do.”

She slung her cloak up over her shoulders and shoved the key card in her pocket. “Oh, and Rex? Maybe take a shower.”

* * * * * * *

It wasn’t a bad suggestion. He was still caked with the dirt and grime of that Force-forsaken moon. Coated in the rubble of the Republic, in his brothers’ blood. The bandage on his head would keep the water out of the wound, and he could keep the heat off his blaster scrapes. He’d need to do something about that shoulder hit in the not too distant future.

The ‘fresher had a real water shower, not those blasted sonic showers. The hot water worked its way into sore muscles, and he closed his eyes, trying his best to stay in the moment, to forget that the last time he’d done this, he was on a Star Destroyer, celebrating a victory, about to head back to Coruscant for what looked to be the end of the war.

How did everything go so wrong so fast? 

_No. Don’t go back there. Not now._

He finished up his shower reciting survival protocols from the reg manuals just to keep his mind from wandering. Once dry and changed, he settled onto the small bed furthest from the door and looked at star charts and searching for a more permanent place to call home. He knew Ahsoka knew they couldn’t stay together forever, but if he were honest, he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to be alone in the galaxy yet. Not while he felt so…fragile.

Ahsoka returned with a small tube of bacta, a thin roll of bandages, and two meager meals. They were still warm and fresher than the rations they had eaten on that _shabla_ moon. He nodded his thanks but didn’t meet her eyes. He still ate quickly—battlefield instincts still kicked in gear—and set the empty container down beside him. Closing his eyes, he let himself sink back against the wall, while Ahsoka rustled around in the backpack and went into the ‘fresher to wash her hands. He opened his mouth to ask how she had gotten all this with her limited credits but stopped short when he felt the bed dip beside him and hands on the side of his head.

“Hold still,” she said and pulled the bandage off the wound.

“You don’t have to do this for me. I was going to—”

“Why not?” She spread a layer of bacta on, careful not to apply too much pressure. He was sure she could feel his lingering discomfort. “You did this for me.”

He found he had nothing to say to that, nothing that wouldn’t stir up difficult emotions that they were both too spent for, so he changed the subject. “So, what next?”

She laughed, not a true laugh, but a welcome sound all the same. “Always planning ahead.” A sigh. “I need a few days, Rex. I know time might not be a luxury we have but…”

He understood. Bandage affixed, she stood and headed back towards the ‘fresher. “I’m going to shower and crash. You should try to rest, too.”

Rex muttered a good night and slid down onto his side. He hadn’t thought to grab one of the blankets that had been left for them, but he couldn’t be bothered to get back up as he found himself drifting off to the sound of the shower running. The cheap mattress was exponentially more comfortable than the hard ground they had laid down on between digging graves. It was a comfort he felt he did not deserve. The least he could do before he slept was give his brothers their proper remembrance. He had just about succumbed to his exhaustion by the final name, but not before the weight of a blanket settled over him and the lights in the room went dark.

* * * * * * * *

She slept, but to say it had been restful would be a stretch. Her own nightmares ate at her mind, and Rex’s terror had blended in with her own. She wondered if what she saw was fully hers, or a product of the remnants of the connection she had forged when she reached into his mind in that medical bay. Eventually, she got up and used a Force suggestion to ease his nightmares and plunge him into deeper sleep so at least one of them could feel rested in the morning. Around 0500, she gave up and decided that maybe meditation would be a better option. Perhaps the Force held answers, or she could catch a glimpse of another signature.

That turned out to be a mistake. As soon as she slipped beneath the surface, the assault began. The Force, choked by Darkness, felt hard and unfamiliar. It reeked of death. The cold crept in, freezing her in place and dragging her down into its hold. She was drowning in it. She clawed at the tendrils and did everything she could to move into what little Light she still felt. It was only after a physical weight pressed against her, that her mind found something tangible to hold on to, an anchor, solid and steady. Pulling herself along the feeling as if it were a rope, she sank forward, awareness crashing back in, Rex’s nervous hands gripped on her arms.

“You back with me, kid?”

“Yeah.” A shaky breath. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

She wasn’t, not really, but he didn’t press. Instead, he handed her a cup of the insta-caf they’d been provided. She clutched at the warm center of the mug, willing the heat to chase the cold of the Dark Side from her body. It would awhile before she tried that again.

“I meant to ask how you managed to get food and bacta with your meager credit stash.”

A sad smile rose unbidden to her lips. “The kindness of strangers. Speaking of, you need to take care of that shoulder hit. Can’t afford any complications. We’re probably going to need a bigger tube…”

“For that, we’ll need credits. What are you going to do? Get a job?”

 _Huh_. “You know, I could do that actually.” At his puzzlement, she added, “back on Coruscant, after I left, I fell in with a couple of sisters and helped out with…some stuff. I learned plenty of mechanical skills from Anakin. Maybe I could fix stuff up, no questions asked. This is a spaceport, after all.”

“Well…what should I do?”

Force, help her. He sounded so lost. Rex wasn’t one for inaction. He didn’t handle it well. None of the clones had really been designed for it, but he was one that always had a bit of a tough time with furlough or longer injured leave. And in war, there was always something to be done. It was something she had to admit she had a hard time adjusting to in her life outside the order. While it probably wasn’t a good idea for them to be seen together too often, she knew he’d lose it if he started to feel useless.

“Can you lay eyes on the port itself? I’ll mostly be in the repair shops and won’t be able to scout a decent ship or activity patterns. We’re going to need something with a decent hyperdrive, room for two, and a lull in port activity if we’re going to have any luck getting out of here after we’ve…commandeered… something.”

She set her now empty cup back on the tray and glanced at the chrono. “First, please take care of that shoulder. We should leave at different times, too.”

It worked without a hitch. A small mercy, she thought after everything. They had a couple weeks to get themselves together as much as possible. Earned enough credits to live on, and they’d taken a freighter from the platform of a man who had just died. Part of her felt guilty, stealing from a dead man, but it wasn’t like they were robbing him of his livelihood. Drink had done that.

It wasn’t a permanent solution, she knew. But if it gave them time to begin to sort through their trauma and heal what they could, she would take it. If all her experiences during the Clone Wars had taught her anything, it was that she knew how to survive in hopeless situations. If all she and Rex could do in the short-term was survive, it would be enough.

_____________________________________________________________

_18 Years Before the Battle of Yavin; 2 Year of the Empire_

Hard to believe it had almost been a year. They had settled into a sort of rhythm, setting down in disreputable ports and cities, Ahsoka taking on what work she could, and Rex monitoring Imperial movements and hoping beyond hope for word from anyone else out there. Occasionally, they’d find someplace that he could pitch in with local farm labour or supply loading. Most didn’t ask too many questions. He updated their options as needed and whenever things got a bit too active, he directed them to some barren wasteland of a world they could set down on and lay low until they needed more supplies. That was how they’d found Gregor, and later Wolffe, the former had apparently been stranded on Abafar for the majority of the war, and the latter had been so ruined by what he’d done that he’d run as far as he could.

Removing their inhibitor chips had…not gone well. It wasn’t like they had access to advanced equipment or technology, and so Ahsoka had flown them to a port that did various procedures without asking questions. Both times, it required basically all of their remaining credit stash, which left Ahsoka having to find extra work before they were able to get off-world and Rex behind to tend to his convalescing brothers. He hadn’t met the man during the war, but Gregor seemed a little more off his rocker than he thought possible for a clone. Wolffe…the man’s trauma ran deep, especially since General Koon had actually been killed. Rex didn’t ask if he had been the one to do it—a line he wouldn’t dare cross—but the commander had a hard time with Ahsoka. Somedays it was guilt, having known about their special relationship. Others, it was trauma induced fear that she was back to avenge her fallen friend.

Those days were hardest. Ahsoka tried everything she could to help him and blamed herself when things went wrong. Rex spent hours up with him the way Ahsoka had in the beginning of all this mess, trying to drag his brother out of the pit of self-loathing he had fallen into. It would take time, but Rex had to believe they would get there.

Yesterday, they had had a close call. The Empire showed up in the streets, declaring this backwater theirs and daring anyone to stand up against them. Ahsoka had stopped a large billboard, knocked loose from Imperial fire, from falling on to a mother and her three children. Within seconds, the newly dubbed “stormtroopers” were on their tail, firing at them as they ducked and dodged between houses. He had very nearly been shot, and Ahsoka more than once cursed her lack of sabers. They lost their pursuers in an abandoned building in the slums and sent off a quick warning to the other two that they’d be on their way to them as soon as possible.

He had taken a huge gamble to get past the blockage by transmitting old codes that he prayed were still good. The control officer had at first been struck by the sound of a trooper’s voice it what could barely be classified as a freighter, but the codes he’d sent said that this was a special unit, on secret assignment, and the officer had let them go. Likely more concerned with helping catch a “Jedi traitor.”

Ahsoka still hadn’t said a word. She had more or less retreated into the quarters she shared with Rex, not coming out even to eat. Every time he checked on her, she knelt on the floor as if in meditation, which she had attempted only a few times in the previous year. He got the strong feeling she was faking it to be left alone.

It wasn’t until they touched down on Seelos and stumbled upon a mostly destroyed Republic outpost that she asked to talk with him away from the others. Wolffe and Gregor chattered happily near the remains of an old walker, in bad shape, but not out of hope for repairs. It was the first time he’d seen Wolffe with a smile that reached his eyes.

Ahsoka stood at the ramp of the ship, her arms crossed over her chest. She said nothing as he approached and leaned on the pole opposite her.

“Get that walker up and running, and we may have a shot at a mobile house that requires less fuel. Datapad says there’s edible fauna here, and I think I could probably rig some sort of moisture evaporator.”

“I can’t stay here, Rex.”

Her voice knocked the air out of his lungs. “I-I don’t understand.”

She lowered her head. “As long as I’m with you, I am a danger to you. I can’t just shut the Force off, Rex. If I see someone in trouble, sometimes I don’t think before I’m throwing a hand out to save them. If the new Sith Lord, or his Inquisitors ever caught the feeling or sensed me in meditation, they would be after us. They’d never stop.”

“Well, then you’re safer with us! We can…we’re stronger together.”

She turned to him then, and he saw tears in her eyes. She had thought about this. Her mind was made up. She stepped towards him and laid her hands on his arms.

“Rex, you have done infinitely more for me than I could ever deserve. When Order 66 came, you warned me, and you chose to help me, even if it meant turning on your brothers. You saved my life, at the cost of theirs. I can’t ever—I can’t begin to understand the weight of that. I will _always_ be grateful beyond words. But, I can’t be the person that gets you killed. Not when you’ve finally found your brothers again. The three of you deserve peace, not a life on the run. Not cut down at the hands of Inquisitors.”

He didn’t realize he was crying, until he felt her hands on his cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears. He looked down and away, and remembered that dreadful day on a doomed Venator, when he chose to face the pain of living with her instead of dying alongside his brothers. And since she was all he had left of his closest family, he treasured this _vod_.

“I couldn’t have—” He struggled to find the words. “I wouldn’t have been able to handle this if not for you. You’re my family, too, Ahsoka. I don’t want…” he trailed off as his throat closed up.

She laughed, then, despite the tears on her own face. “You are infinitely stronger than you know. I will help you get this thing up and running, and then I’ll go. It doesn’t have to be forever, and we can still send transmissions. You deserve this, Rex. Take it.”

He pulled her close. “I know better than to argue with you. I won’t pretend I’m happy about this, but…I respect your decision. Just don’t stay away too long.”

She stepped back, wiped the tears from her eyes, and picked up their tool kit. “Let’s get to work.”

___________________________________________________________________

_3273 Lothal Year; 15 Year of the Empire; 5 Years Before the Battle of Yavin_

She had sent Kanan and Ezra after him, not really knowing whether or not he was still alive. Somehow…she wanted to believe she would know if he were dead. The joy she felt at seeing him alive, standing at attention in that hallway…There weren’t words.

They had been left alone to catch up after the debriefing, and Rex had taken a proper shower while she grabbed them both something from the mess. He muttered something about being happy to see something other than joopa for once, and _Force_ , she realized how much she had missed him.

“How’re Gregor and Wolffe?”

“Oh, you know, still crazy and wound tight, but alive and kicking. All we can hope for.” His face darkened for a moment. “Ahsoka, I’m sorry I never responded. Wolffe had started keeping your transmissions secret, and I—I was too afraid to put one out myself because…”

“I might not have answered. Much the same reason I never came looking.” She leaned back and picked up her mug of caf. “Well, what a nice surprise to be together again after years of thinking the other one dead.”

As they talked, he told her about their exploits on Seelos, the Imperial chatter he had managed to pick up that he hoped could be useful, how much better his brothers were doing on most days. Her heart seized at the realization that he had gotten older. She knew, of course she knew, of the advanced aging, but seeing it in person hit differently. He was chronologically four years younger than her; biologically, he was at least two decades older. He and his brothers had endured so many wrongs at the hand of their creators and during their service, and now they were subject to years of their life being siphoned away. They deserved so much better.

It occurred to her, that had she waited much longer, they would have been out of time.

“Ahsoka?”

“Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“What have you been up to all this time? Should have guessed you’d be starting a rebellion.”

“I didn’t _start_ it. I started out doing mostly what we had done in the first place. Hopping planets and looking for a safe place to lay low. Then I started visiting old Temples, looking for other Jedi or someway to help undo the Darkness that has a stranglehold on the Force. I ran into a contact with whom I worked closely for a quite a while, and she got me plugged in with this…well, I guess you could call it a rebellion.”

He laughed and gave her a knowing look. “Well, Commander, so much for retirement. Looks like we’re back on the field together again.”

“Yes, Captain. It would seem so.”

____________________________________________________________

_3726 Lothal Year; 18 Year of the Empire; 1 Year Before the battle of Yavin_

They freed Lothal, at a cost. He had barely had time to catch his breath between that battle and its fallout, feeling his age more and more every day. He wasn’t dead yet, and that meant he still had a place here. Could still help make a difference. The _Ghost_ crew had taken it harder than anyone. Kanan’s death and Ezra’s disappearance weighed on them all. He and Wolffe had added yet another brother’s name to their ever-growing list of remembrances. Sabine joined them on occasion, adding her own names quietly beside them.

He had long given up on his hope of finding more of his brothers, freeing them from the Empire’s grasp. He did his best not to think too long about the word “decommissioning.” He hadn’t been able to bring himself to do more research. Some horrors were best left to the imagination. His final hope was that he could watch the Empire fall down at his feet, a final victory and vengeance for the lives they had claimed, before he succumbed to the cruelty of his rapid aging.

They were preparing to move off world and reinforce the wider Rebellion when a ship landed near their outpost. Hera had gone out to greet them, one hand on her blaster and the other on her belly. She hadn’t slowed down a minute, despite her pregnancy, and Sabine often joked baby Syndulla was most likely to be born in the middle of a dogfight. Wolffe had quipped that might be a good name, which Hera had _promptly_ shut down.

She returned minutes later, heading straight to where he’d been taking a break from loading crates—getting harder and harder these days—and smiled at him.

“She’d like to see you.”

Confusion faded to surprise. Daring to hope, he’d gotten to his feet as fast as he could and barreled down the hill towards the ship and the figure in the grass. He recognized the silhouette the closer he got and barely registered the grin on her face before he pulled her into an embrace.

“You should know better than to believe I’m dead.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that and pull her closer. “I’d still rather you kick this habit of yours,” he said and let go. “Seriously, how—”

“I promised Hera I’d give you all the full story. I may be able to help with Ezra, too, once this is over. We have an Empire to collapse.”

Sure enough, she’d had quite the tale. The fullness of Kanan’s sacrifice brought tears to Hera’s eyes, but she at last had closure. Ahsoka admitted she had no idea where Ezra was, only that he was _somewhere_ , and since she had made a promise to find him, she would do so. But not until after the war was over. It was what he would want. For now, they needed to double their efforts to take down the Emperor.

He wandered outside to where she had gone to meditate. She knelt in the grass, hands resting on her knees. He eased down quietly beside her, ignoring the protest in his joints. For a few quiet breaths ,he reveled in this moment, the cool breeze on his face, long blades of grass beneath his fingertips, one of his oldest friends by his side. For all he felt that it took, the Force gave back, too. It didn’t take long before her voice broke the silence.

“You have a question.”

To the point. “Did you find out who the Sith Lord was?”

“I did.” A heavy sigh, followed by a hand on his. “Anakin is Vader.”

He believed he could be shocked by little these days, but Ahsoka had brought him two in the span of a few hours. He was glad he was already on the ground because the weight of that realization would have brought him to his knees. The fall of the Republic and the Jedi, the horrors of Order 66 and the 501st’s assault on the Temple, the hunting of Ahsoka and Kanan and Force knew how many other survivors came at the hands of his Jedi general. The man he had praised and boasted of to the _Ghost_ crew. He would like to be angry, but instead he felt every one of the years his body appeared to have lived. He was so tired.

Still though, knowing brought an inexplicable sense of clarity. “Thank you for telling me, little un’.”

Another breath, and she turned to face him. “I have a bit more I need to do that’ll keep me away from all of you. In order to help me know how to find Ezra. I’ll come back as soon as I can. We’ve almost done it, Rex. It’s nearly over.”

She sounded hopeful, for the first time in a long time. He wished he could share it. “I hope I’m around to see it. Time isn’t exactly on my side.”

“You’re not dead yet. Besides, Force knows we need a few years to relax when all is said and done. I think it’ll grant us that.” Her eyes landed on the distant silhouette of a Lothwolf and the creature she called Morai flying above it. She gripped his hand again. “I think it’ll grant us that.”

**Author's Note:**

> And they found Ko Sai, reversed the clones' advanced aging, and Rex took on the galaxy at his proper age.  
> The end.
> 
> This may not be as coherent as I wanted it to be, but I just had these individual stories in my head that seemed like they all wanted to fit together. Until Filoni gives us the "Ahsoka and Rex On the Run" series we deserve, I'm going to keep wallowing in it.


End file.
